


Orange

by cellard00rs



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Dick Pics, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 08:43:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11144919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellard00rs/pseuds/cellard00rs
Summary: Hunk sends Keith an embarrassing photo and certain truths are revealed.





	Orange

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhat based on this: 'i bet you ten dollars that the first dick pic hunk ever sent was because his new boyfriend keith drunkly requested one via text.' It was a post by [pratktcven](http://pratktcven.tumblr.com/) I reblogged and said I wanted to write and pratktcven was gracious enough to give me the green light. I messed with it - quite a lot. But hopefully it's still enjoyable!

There are many things in the universe that are not to be trusted.

Allura would make the argument for the Galra (albeit her opinion changing slowly, but surely, in light of Keith and Thace), Coran would point out the untrustworthiness of space pirates, Pidge of poorly manufactured DOS systems and Hunk?

Well, before now, Hunk would have said sardines on pizza, because seriously – why is _fish_ on his pizza? But now he can say unequivocally and without fail that the least trustworthy thing in the universe is Bilarian soda.

Or pop.

The choice between the two descriptors, soda or pop, led to quite an argument between Keith and Lance, although – honestly – _anything_ can lead to an argument between them. Regardless, Team Voltron swooped in, saved the Bilarian capital, and the oh so gracious leaders wanted to reward them, so they gave them cases of this vaulted drink they had, which they described as ‘completely harmless’ and ‘totally okay for them to drink’.

WHICH.

IT.

WAS.

NOT.

Because the Bilarian’s idea of a harmless soda pop, was, in fact, one of the universe’s most potent alcoholic drinks. So yes, it was vaulted – probably because after three sips you were _beyond_ wasted. And the most insidious part of it was, you had _no_ idea it was intoxicating. Sure, it tasted weird. Like apple juice mixed with popcorn, which on the surface sounds super nasty, but hey, it worked.

Enough that one sip isn’t enough. Much less two nor three and then – oh boy. THEN. Your mind, your body – everything takes flight. And without the help of an alien-made robot lion. So yeah, Bilarian soda equals untrustworthy and while Hunk woke with a massive, mind splitting headache this morning, with little to no memory of last night – he could at least take comfort in the knowledge that the worst past was behind him and he’d learned a new lesson.

Or so he thought.

Until breakfast and oh boy, that’s when he learned how truly untrustworthy the drink is and how totally fucked _he_ is. They were all sitting around the kitchen table, all recuperating, when Keith picks up his phone and mumbles, “Mmm, looks like I got a text.”

“Hey, hey!” Lance begs, “Quiet down. You don’t have to shout.”

“Can’t believe they gave us that stuff,” Pidge moans, “Can’t believe they gave _me_ that stuff. I’m waaaaaaaay underage.”

“In your world, maybe. Out here?” Coran hums, “On some planets you’d be considered elderly.”

“Wha’zat make you?” Pidge slurs grumpily and Coran’s mustache twitches, “Still, I agree with you. The Bilarians should have put more thought into their…gift.”

“I don’t think of this headache as a gift,” Allure moans, ice pack pressed to her temples, “From now on, I think we should all agree that we will only accept praise from those we help. Their gratitude should be more than enough.”

“Yeah,” Keith murmurs, fingers tapping at his phone, “Especially if it’s something that’s going to make me feel so…hazy. Anyone even remember what we _did_ last night?”

“I remember _dancing_ ,” Lance purrs, eyes on Allura who pales and whimpers, “I think I’m going to be _ill_.”

“Lance was,” Pidge assures her with a crafty grin, “On you. Right after that dance.”

Lance scowls at Pidge, but Allura’s color returns considerably at that remark. Hunk tips back in his chair, eyes on the ceiling, “God, I don’t – I don’t remember like, _anything_. At all. Nada. Zip. Zlich. Zero. My mind is a total blank slate. What about you, Coran?”

“I agree. It’s…all a bit of a blur. I think…I think at one point I sang?”

“Oh. Okay, cool. Glad I don’t remember then,” Hunk teases and Coran glowers, “I’ll have you know my mother said I had the voice of an Ilius Seraphim…”

“Key word being ‘your’ mother,” Lance supplies but while everyone else grins, Keith is still frowning, eyes narrowed as he examines his phone, “That’s…strange.”

“What is? Me ripping on Coran’s singing voice? ‘Cause while I don’t remember it, I’m sure it’s a zillion times better than yours,” Lance promises and Keith shakes his head, “No. I’m talking about this picture on my phone.”

“What picture?”

“Someone…someone sent me a photo with a text and it’s…I…I can’t tell what it is…”

“Let me see it,” Lance reaches out and snaps up the phone from Keith’s hand. Keith lets out an abortive ‘hey!’ but can’t stop him because the damned after effects of the drink have slowed down his reflexes. Lance squints at the picture. He turns the phone this way and that, even upside down, before shaking his head, “I got nothing, dude. Just looks like a brown fuzzy thing.”

“Let me see,” Pidge takes it from Lance and Keith is still weakly, and without much success, trying to get his phone back. Pidge’s nose wrinkles and she shrugs, “I got nothing. Whoever took it did a bad job. It’s very blurry.”

“Hang on a tic,” Coran snaps it up and rubs a finger thoughtfully under his nose, “Ah! I see what you mean! Very shoddy job. Maybe we could clean it up with the ship’s computers!”

“Why would we want to do that?” Keith asks and Coran opens his mouth to answer only for Allura to offer crisply, “Because, for all we know it could be a message of the utmost importance! If it’s such an obscured image that the four of you cannot decipher it, it could be a secret communiqué! Something sent from one of our allies in regards to our fight against Zarkon!”

“Orrrrrrrrrrrrr,” Coran trills, “It could just be from Hunk.”

Hunk’s chin rises from where it had been dipping down; sleep starting to claim him, “Huh? What?”

Coran waggles Keith’s phone back and forth, “The picture message. It’s from you.”

“From me? Whoa! H-hey, wh-why would I send Keith a message? Much less a _picture_ message? I mean, I’m right here – he’s right here, even last night we were still, y’know–” Hunk feels sweat break out on his forehead and he doesn’t know why or, yes, actually – he knows _exactly_ why, because he doesn’t remember last night like, at all, and he’s not sure if he did something _unbelievably_ stupid.

Like let the Red Paladin in on the fact that he has a _massive_ crush on him.

A massive crush that he’s amazingly managed to keep from all the others, even Lance, and oh god, oh god, oh quiznack god, please, please, please, _please_ don’t let it be something stupid like that and he finds his mouth is still running, “–same place, same ship, same eye line. Like-like I could have shown him whatever I needed to show him last night to his face and I don’t think I even sent that picture. Like, maybe _Lance_ took my phone and he sent it and-!”

Hunk’s nervous rambles are cut off by Lance’s indignant, “Wow, thanks for throwing me under that bus, buddy! But I’ll have you know that it wasn’t me. Mean, sure, my memories are a bit fuzzy about last night, but I know I didn’t take your phone. See, I have a little thing called _class_.”

“Since when?” Pidge questions even as Coran just grins and starts plugging the phone up to a nearby computer, “Now, now – I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about! If anything it’ll clear up our collective amnesia over the previous evening’s activities!”

The picture shows up on a large holo display before them and Hunk’s throat squeeze shut tight. He can’t tell what it is either, but it’s…he just _knows_ it’s no good.

 _What did you do?_ His mind shouts at him. _What did you do? What did you do? Think, think, THINK! C’mon, think_ fast, _man! Let’s see, let’s see – Lance and Allura dancing? Sort of remember that. Pidge letting the mice use her tummy for a trampoline? Yes, yes  - that happened! But what about you? What did YOU do? Arm wrestling match with…with Coran? Yeah, okay, yeah – THAT happened, but your phone! What did you do with your-?_

Allura’s blue eyes narrow and she points at the picture, “It…it looks like an outline of a person. Is that Hunk?”

“Dude, you took a selfie?” Lance chuckles, “Good job, man! Drunk selfies are the best selfies.”

“How the heck would you know?” Pidge returns and Lance’s eyebrows waggle, “What can I say? Despite my age, I’m way cool.”

“Now, now! Drinking spirituous beverages is not, in fact, ‘cool’, Lance!” Coran’s back goes straight, “Indeed, it is the very opposite of that! A Paladin of Voltron should set an example! Not be an-an inebriate!”

“Look, it was one time out on the Coast with some buddies, Coran. It wasn’t a bender in Vegas. And it _definitely_ wasn’t what it was last night.”

Coran makes some argument about age and Lance fires back about rites of passages or something but Hunk could honestly care less because…because Allura is right. IT IS an outline of him and it’s…coming back. So slowly. Too slowly. He remembers after his tenth sip of that drink he’d been feeling so good. So confidant.

He’d staggered off to his room and he’d felt very, very woozy. Very tired. But then something had caught his eye, something red – a shirt or something, god knows what, but it’d been _red_ and red had made him think of Keith.

Keith’s slender, but toned body. His intense grey eyes, his soft dark hair and Lance loved to rip on it, but Hunk? Hunk had wanted to know what it might feel like. Those long, dark tresses between his big, clumsy fingers and if only he wasn’t…wasn’t himself.

If only he was someone different, someone less bumbling and big. Someone who might appeal to Keith and who would appeal to Keith? A girl? A boy? Both? Neither? Keith came across as so sullen, so solo. There had been Shiro, but that hadn’t seemed so much romantic as brotherly and maybe Keith wasn’t interested in _any_ kind of relationship and even if he was, it certainly wouldn’t be with someone like Hunk. Someone with a braying laugh and a large frame and just…

…but it couldn’t hurt to check, right? To just…just put it all out there. It was so hard. So arduous. Feeling his heart flutter when the guy spoke to him, feeling his pulse skip when he walked by and if he could just-just _know_ if Keith was at all interested…

But how? What was the best way? The most _direct_ one and Hunk had been hot and oddly aroused and it just seemed like…

Hunk’s eyes grow huge.

Oh.

Oh, _no_.

The memories come fast, quick, and hard and isn’t _that_ perfect word. He’d been so _hard_ last night. _Hard_ and thinking of _Keith_ and his phone had been in his hand as he giggled and what could it hurt, right? What could it hurt and he was in front of his mirror, world spinning in fun, wild pinwheels as he wobbled and it was _so_ easy to unbutton his pants, to lower his zipper, to tug aside his boxers and let himself loose, large and throbbing and his free hand on that, the other on his phone, thumb hovering over the little camera icon.

He didn’t.

 _He didn’t_.

He couldn’t have…

“It’s clearing up!” Coran cried cheerfully, “You were right, Princess! It’s Hunk! His face is coming in nicely! My, but doesn’t he look smug! Very happy fellow indeed! And the rest is still loading! I can just make out that he’s holding his phone and-? I…what is _that_?”

“I dunno. Looks like a breakfast sausage,” Lance snorts, “Big one too. But the castle doesn’t make anything like that last I checked. Usually just goops and goos. Unless you’re holding out on us, big guy. You pick up some Earth food somewhere? I would _kill_ for some pancakes if it’s all-”

“It’s NOT breakfast food!” Hunk shouts and he leaps up, damn near smashing into the computer as he tries to unhook it from the phone but Coran starts wrestling him away, “Hunk! Don’t! We almost have it!”

“You don’t need it! Trust me, no one needs to see this!”

“Well, apparently _Keith_ did, if you sent it to him! And if _Keith_ gets to see it, _I_ get to see it!” Lance proclaims, arms crossing and Keith rolls his eyes, “It’s just a selfie of Hunk. I don’t see what the big deal is…”

“Yeah, Hunk. It’s just you and some,” Pidge adjusts her glasses as she peers at the screen; “I don’t know…a paper towel roll, maybe? Looks a lot larger than that though. What are you holding? It’s really massive.”

“It’s really NOTHING!” Hunk cries, even though the last word comes out in something of a strangled whine and he’s about ready to gut punch Coran if he has to when suddenly Keith gasps, “Wait…is that-?”

The picture loads.

Fully.

All of it. Every…every last inch of it.

Everyone’s jaws drop, eyes wide. The room is deathly silent.

Naturally, Lance is the first to break it, “Well, at least now we know why you look so smug.”

 

+

 

It’s been a few hours since the photo and Keith is still reeling through a multitude of emotions. The chief one being confusion. Why did Hunk send him that picture? After…well, _after_ , Hunk just up and bolted. Head down, shoulders hunched, but legs quick as he fled and at first no one had reacted because they were all still sort of absorbing what they’d just seen.

Coran’s limbs flailed in an almost comical fashion in his quick desperation to unhook the phone from the computer, as if everyone hadn’t already seen everything. And it…it _was_ everything. _All_ of Hunk. Or, well, all of his…

The picture was still burned in Keith’s mind. Hunk’s flush face, his smirk, eyes heavy lidded, shirt lifted up just that little bit, pants and underwear lowered and there…right there between his legs…

It’s not like Keith hasn’t seen a dick before. For Christ’s sake, he HAS one. But it was different seeing Hunk’s and it was definitely different seeing it that way. So…prominent. Dusky dark and full, that little bead of moisture on the soft looking tip and curly black pubic hair just visible, curly black pubic hair no doubt leading down to…

…and just what did his sack look like? Was it as impressive as his cock? Was it full, rounded, and…

And Keith should NOT be thinking about this.

If…if Shiro was still here, he wouldn’t think about this. He wouldn’t have even let this happen. He would have stopped Coran, said something about respecting both Hunk and Keith’s privacy. He would have been a _proper_ leader, something Keith is not and Keith…

Keith hasn’t even dared to don the Black yet. He’s the _Red_ Paladin, goddammit! He won’t – he just _won’t_ wear the Black! He won’t take the mantle. Even on Biliaria, even when he’d been commanding them, even when he’d been piloting Shiro’s lion so Allura could take his so they could form Voltron, even then, he wasn’t…

To take on the Black Lion, to be the leader…it would be admitting Shiro’s gone. That Shiro’s gone and he’s not coming back and that they might not find him and that he might even be –

No. No, Shiro is NOT that. Anything but that. He’s _alive_ and he’s out there somewhere and Keith is going to find him and he’s going to make everything right, even if it kills him. But, in the interim, he has to try and do what he can to fill the void. He has to try and say and do what Shiro would. And Shiro would go and comfort Hunk.

Keith knows Lance tried. Lance was the first one to depart the table, calling after his friend. But eventually he passed Keith, all moody and said Hunk wouldn’t let him in. That he’d barricaded himself in his room and swore he would last there for an eternity no matter the cost. Keith’s not so sure about that, Hunk has to come out sometime. It’s not like he has rations in there…or maybe he does…

Either way, Keith goes to Hunk’s door and raps it with the back of his knuckles. Hunk answers with a peevish, “I already told you I’m not coming out, Lance!”

“It’s not Lance, it’s Keith.”

There’s a resounding silence on the other side and then, “Oh. Well. In that case – Hunk doesn’t live here anymore. My name’s Fernandez.”

“Come on, Hunk, let me in.”

“I told you – my name is Fernandez. I’m a humble Altean janitor. How else do you think this castle stays so clean? Who fixes it up? Me, Fernandez, that’s who.”

“Hunk…” Keith rubs at his eyes, sighing, “Even if I thought that were true, I highly doubt there would be an _Altean_ named ‘Fernandez’.”

“What? How dare you. Fernandez is a perfectly acceptable Altean name. Don’t be Altean-ist.”

“Hunk!” he presses and he can hear Hunk thudding across his room grumpily, “Fine, fine! I’ll let you in! You don’t have to use your Shiro voice on me!”

“‘Shiro voice’?” Keith repeats and the door opens to show a red eyed Hunk who steps back and waves him in impatiently, “Yeah, yeah – Lance and me coined it for whenever you get this scolding tone in your voice. Like you’re trying to sound like Shiro. Shiro voice.”

“I…I don’t have a ‘Shiro voice’,” he mutters, a little sulkily as he enters the room and Hunk won’t meet his eyes, still sort of flapping his hands uselessly as he slams the door shut behind them and he charges back to his bunk, “Sure, sure. Whatever.”

Hunk lands on his bunk nosily, puffy blankets and pillows letting out a loud ‘whoosh’ under his weight. It’s the sort of dramatic action that speaks exactly as to why Hunk and Lance are friends, even more so when Hunk snatches up one of the pillows and buries his face in it, as if to hide himself. Keith stands there, feeling awkward and lost, especially after the whole Shiro comment.

Hadn’t he just, on his way here, said he should act as Shiro would? He knew he was doing it and yet…to know the others noticed. _How can they not notice_? His thoughts hiss, _you’re the leader now, right? Or at least playing at being one._

Keith closes his eyes and drags in a rickety breath. Okay. He needs to focus. This is about Hunk. Not himself. This is about what Hunk did, how Hunk feels and Keith…Keith has to help. He wants to help. But before he can say or do anything, Hunk beats him to the punch, talking into his pillow more than anything, “Look, man, I let you in so I could apologize. Y’know? I mean, I should probably apologize to EVERYBODY, but I gotta apologize to you in particular since I’m the one who sent you the pic to begin with and it’s just…”

Hunk puts aside the pillow; face red, eyes on his hands as they rest on his knees, “I get it. It was totally disrespectful and it was uncalled for and…”

He rubs his hands up and down his legs and his breathing is shallow, eyes suspiciously glossy as he rushes on, “And I know this is a lot to ask for but can we-? Can we just forget this ever happened?”

Keith licks his lips, bites the bottom one as he twists where he stands. _What would Shiro say? What would he do? (Shiro voice?) No, no – what….what about_ you _. Answer with_ your _answer_.

“With…with the picture. There…there was a text.”

Hunk’s head snaps up at that, “What?”

“You…you sent words with the picture. I think with the way my phone was scrolled…no one mentioned it. I don’t think they saw it. They were too distracted by the picture,” _How could they not be_? His thoughts chuckle in an absurdist turn, _what with ALL there was to see_? “But you wrote yellow and red equals orange.”

Hunk flops back on his bed, eyes on the ceiling, “Great. My humiliation is complete. Thanks for that.”

“I didn’t-”

“I was talking to myself, Keith,” Hunk cuts in dryly; “You’re fine.”

“Um. Okay.”

It’s quiet for a while. A long while. Keith’s feet are starting to hurt and he’s beyond uncomfortable both physically and emotionally, so he leans on a nearby wall, trying to at least alleviate one of his problems as he crosses his arms, doing his best to keep his tone neutral, “So…what did it mean?”

A deep exhale issues from Hunk in answer.

Keith tries again, “Yellow and red equaling-?”

“Our two lions,” Hunk grumbles, one hand covering his eyes, “Their colors. Together they’d make orange. What and along with…with the picture I sent…I don’t know. I guess…I guess I was suggesting together we’d make…”

“Orange,” Keith huffs and it probably comes out more amused than it should, especially since Hunk rolls over to his left side and curls into a ball. Keith pushes away from the wall and notes the empty spot on the bunk. He gingerly sits there. Hands threading together between his knees as he tips his head back and tries to think of what he can say or do to fix this.

Nothing comes to mind and he beats himself up mentally for being all sorts of a failure even as he finds his mouth asking, “Why did you send me the picture?”

Hunk seems to curl even tighter.

“The text?”

Keith is positive he won’t get an answer to either, so he’s very surprised when Hunk uncurls and sits up right next to him. He’s still slouched, eyes still down, as he mumbles, “Thought that’d be pretty obvious.”

“It’s…it’s not. Not to me.”

Hunk scrubs his hands up and down his face a couple of times, nearly knocking his bandana ( _It’s orange_ , Keith’s mind offers unhelpfully) off before he says under his breath, ‘in for a penny’, and then, more loudly, “Look, I like you, okay.”

Keith blinks rapidly, now completely lost, “I…like you too?”

Hunk rolls his eyes so hard his whole head moves, “No, I like _like_ you. Like, I’m _interested_ in you. Like-like I think you’re…you’re _hot_. And god, that sounds so damned juvenile and I know you all think of me that way, all ‘oh, there’s Hunk, he’s the funny one, he’s like a kid brother’ or something, but I’m not, y’know, _really_ like that.  Or I’m not _just_ that. I’m…I’m a _guy_ and a guy who likes _guys_ although, to be honest, I like girls too and aliens and some plant creatures we’ve come across and okay, I just – I like what I like and who I like and I don’t try to get all hung up on it but I REALLY like you and I’ve liked you for a while now and when I drank that totally untrustworthy drink I became stupid and did something stupid and now-!”

Keith starts waves his hands, doing his best to cut off Hunk’s rambling (especially because he’s not sure Hunk’s even taken a breath since he’s started), “Wait, wait – back up. You…you’re…interested in me? Like…you…have a crush on me?”

Hunk finally takes in that breath and it’s damn near deafening before he squeaks out, “Yes.”

“So…the picture..?”

“Was my shit way of telling you. Yes.”

“Huh,” this is all Keith can offer. It is totally inelegant and totally NOT what Shiro would offer.

Hunk deflates, “Look, it’s...it’s not your problem, okay? It’s not something you need to worry about and I promise, I PROMISE, I will not let it affect the team! Or my lion or Voltron! I get that we have WAY bigger and more important things to focus on and – and like I said, the picture and the text and sending all of that, I was…I was under the influence and it was totally not the way to go about it and frankly you weren’t even supposed to know and-!”

Hunk’s latest sure-to-be-epic ramble is cut off as Keith reaches out and takes his face in his hands. Their eyes meet, brown to grey, and Keith speaks clearly, “You’re right.”

The only sound is their breathing until Keith continues, “We do have other things to focus on.”

Keith’s eyes dart all over Hunk’s face and then he’s tugging him forward. Hard. Their lips meet in a very messy way. Rough and sloppy and the sound Hunk lets out would be hilarious if Keith could hear it over the thundering of his own heart. _What are you doing_? A hysterical voice cries in his mind, even as his fingers thread through Hunk’s hair, even as he angles his head and feels his body surge forward, pressing to Hunk’s, as he deepens the kiss, makes it less of a horror show and more of a perfect melding of mouths.

His tongue slips easily along the seam of Hunk’s lips, pushes them apart to delve deeper and the next sound Hunk makes is such a hungry groan that Keith shudders, suddenly hot and a strange sort of itchy. Hunk’s hands are on his back, hot enough to feel through the material of his jacket, and then Keith jerks back, panting, eyes wide and they kissed but not _enough_.

A notch forms between Hunk’s eyebrows, “Ah, you’re…you’re sending me some mixed signals here, Keith.”

“I AM a mixed signal,” Keith laughs ruefully and he shakes his head to himself, “You and Lance…”

He runs a sweaty hand through his hair, causing it to stick up at a funny angle, “You’re sort of right. I…I _have_ been trying to be Shiro. Or at least, trying to do what he would. And he would probably say something about focusing on the mission, but…I don’t know. I’ve…I’ve never really thought about it. Being with someone. But you’re…”

Keith looks up at him, blushes, “I…I guess I’m…interested too.”

“Interested?”

Keith nods, “I wasn’t…I wasn’t even planning on kissing you just then. I don’t even know what I was planning. But it was like, the idea just came into my head and I just-”

“You went with it,” Hunk smirks, “Yeah. I think that’s what I did last night. Funny to know we share that in common.”

Keith nods to himself; “Guess we’re risk takers.”

“That’s a flattering way of looking at it,” Hunk finally, finally smiles; it’s small and sweet and makes Keith feel like he’s finally done something _right_. And more than that, he feels…happy. Good. Like a weight has been taken off. Maybe he’s just needed to kiss someone for a while. Or, well, no…not just anyone. He looks at Hunk and suddenly feels shy, self-conscious. Oh god. He _kissed_ him.

His whole face feels hot and he messes with his hair again and Hunk smirks, “You’re, ah, you’re making it worse. Here.”

Hunk’s fingers play with Keith’s hair and his eyes sort of half close at the feeling. It’s…nice. He honestly can’t remember the last time someone touched him. At least, not like this. Slow and gentle and Hunk draws his hands away, exuding the same nervousness Keith feels, “That was nice. By the way. The…kissing.”

“Yeah,” he agrees and Hunk’s mouth wiggles from side to side, as if he’s swishing around a mouthful of something before he lets out a blast of air, “So, what now?”

“Now?”

Hunk nods, “Now that you know how I feel and the kiss and you saying you’re interested and hey, are you really interested or-?”

“I am,” Keith admits quickly, flushing, “At least…I think I am. Like you said, the kissing was nice and I haven’t…I haven’t done that in a long time. Haven’t wanted to and Shiro…”

He trails off, laughs, “I actually _do_ know what Shiro would say here. He’d…he’d tell me to do what feels right. And this…it feels right.”

“Does it?”

He nods, “It’s weird but it,” he stops, eyes Hunk suspiciously, “Although you’re not, I mean…I know you and Shay-”

Hunk lets out an annoyed moan, “No! I don’t know how many times I have to tell you guys, Lance in particular, that I am NOT her boyfriend. I like Shay, but our relationship is not like that,” Hunk gives Keith an evil grin, “Now you and Lance on the other hand…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! No way,” Keith stresses, “That’s just gross.”

“You and Shiro?”

“Grosser.”

Hunk’s eyebrows rise, “Is that even a word?”

“Look, Shiro is like a brother to me and Lance? Lance is like…like that kid that lived down the street from you that wants to play with you all the time, but you just want to punch him in the face.”

“That’s…actually a fairly accurate description of Lance,” Hunk chuckles and Keith laughs too. Hunk catches his breath and leans back on his bed, the earlier tension and stress spooling out of him, “But be honest – Lance is kind of the best.”

“He’s alright,” Keith hedges, “If you like that sort of thing.”

“Which you do. We ALL do.”

“I guess,” he concedes and Hunk shifts on his bunk, eyes not meeting Keith’s, “I am still sorry though. About the picture I sent. It was not cool.”

“I don’t know – it…it led to this. Right?”

“Funny way to start a relationship,” Hunk says and then colors and Keith takes on a bit of the same hue himself because _relationship_ seems like such a heavy word, kissing aside. Not to mention every time the picture is mentioned it…well, it brings the picture to mind and Keith is starting to really wondering what the real life view is like. The touchable one. He swallows thickly and gets to his feet, scratching at the back of his head, “Uh, yeah, about that. Um…since...since we both seem to be…open to the idea, maybe we should…should do something about it.”

“Oh?” Hunk gasps and Keith nods, standing up straighter, “Maybe…maybe a date?”

“A date?”

Keith nods stiffly, almost adds ‘a proper one’, but stops himself. Instead he waits and then Hunk gives him another smile, this one small too and just as sweet as the first, “Yeah. Yeah, okay. That’s…that’d be great.”

Keith feels himself relax a little, pleased, “Great! Well, um, I’ll…I’ll give it some thought and then-”

“You?” Hunk asks and Keith nods, tone suggesting that that was obvious, “I asked. I plan. Besides, it’s like you wrote. Yellow AND Red. Got to contribute my own part to make orange.”

He hears how stupid it sounds even as he says it and he _knows_ Shiro would never say something so stupid, so it’s clearly something from him alone and maybe Hunk recognizes that but he must not think it’s all that stupid because he’s beaming, “Fair enough.”

“Good!” Keith says a little more enthusiastically than he means to, “I’ll…I’ll text you.”

“Yeeeeah, okay. Just-just make sure you don’t make the same mistake I did.”

“Or maybe I should,” Keith teases, “Just to even the score.”

He leaves a gaping Hunk to go to the hallway and just…sag a little over what he just said. It came out a lot more confident than he really feels. And yet. And yet.

Keith slowly finds himself rising up, feeling better because, well, at least he’s got a date with Hunk to look forward to.

And if that isn’t great news, he doesn’t know what is.


End file.
